CONSEQUENCES
by Patcat
Summary: Alex and Bobby involved
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One

"It's so hard to see," Alex thought. She gripped her gun tightly and tried to peer through the grey in front of her. Her breath was ragged and, in spite of the numbing cold, sweat was pouring down her face and neck. The ground was uneven and she couldn't hear. The world was muffled and alien, and none of her senses seemed to be operating. "Bobby...where's Bobby?" She couldn't sense his large comforting frame anywhere near her. Alex tried to call for him, but the grey void swallowed her voice. She banged into a wall, and then another. Alex stumbled, struggled to keep her balance, and then fell. Her gun slipped from her wet hands. She dragged herself to her knees and franticly searched for her weapon. The ground grabbed at her hands and knees; she could barely move. A shadow moved over her, and Alex turned in fear. "No!" She screamed, and then two pops sounded near her. Alex looked down to see two widening circles of scarlet spreading on her chest and stomach. She laid her hands over them and watched the crimson ribbons thread through her hands. "I'm shot," Alex thought. "I'm shot."

"Alex!" Bobby's voice cut through the grey world. Alex tried to scream, to warn him, but her strength was seeping away with those scarlet plumes. As she slumped to the ground, Alex saw Bobby emerge from the shadows. He saw and moved towards her, crying out her name. The dark figure stepped from the grey swirl, raised an arm, and Alex heard two sickening bangs. Bobby staggered and cried out in pain as his right knee exploded. The second shot struck him in the chest, and he fell face down next to her. Bobby turned his stricken face towards her, his brown eyes bright with pain and fear. He extended a shaking hand and gripped her arm.

"A—Alex...Alex...please..."

End Chapter 1

(you guys are going to hate me for this. I think I hate myself for it)


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Bobby and Alex are involved. And there are consequences.

Now that I have your attention (g)

"Alex...Baby..."

Alex blinked. Bobby loomed over her. His eyes were full of concern and he was gently shaking her.

"Wake up, Alex, you're having a bad dream...C'mon...it's all right...I'm here..."

Alex stared at him, and touched his chest. There were no ugly bullet holes, no streams of bright red. She stared at her chest and stomach. There were no expanding circles of blood, no scarlet drops on her hands.

"Bobby," she cried and threw her arms around his neck. She pulled him down to her.

Bobby rolled on his back so that Alex lay on top of him. His right arm pressed her against him; his left hand stroked her head. Her hair was wet with sweat; her T-shirt soaked. She was trembling and struggling not to cry. "I don't know what to do," Bobby thought. "I'm the one who wakes up with bad dreams...she's the one who does the comforting." He pushed down rising tides of guilt and panic. "What she does always works," he thought. "Just do what she does."

"Alex," he said softly. "It's all right...it was a dream...it wasn't real...you and me, right here, right now, we're real." Alex relaxed her grip slightly as he spoke. "It's ok, baby, just breath. You're safe here...I'm not going to let anything hurt you..."

Alex slowly unfolded herself from Bobby's grasp and sat on the edge of the bed. Bobby's soft voice kept murmuring to her and his hand slipped beneath her shirt to rub her back. "My God," she thought, "is this what it's like for him? The dream, and then...it's hard...to feel this weak...this helpless..."

She turned to him.

"Better?" he whispered.

She nodded.

"C'mon...let's get you out of that wet shirt." He sat up and helped her peel off the shirt. Alex shivered and Bobby wrapped himself around her. She reveled in his warmth and strength.

"Why," Bobby's voice was muffled by his speaking into her hair, "don't you take a shower, and I'll get you something nice and cool to drink."

"Ok," Alex thought her voice sounded weak and childlike. Her legs were weak, and Bobby helped her to the shower.

"I'm sorry," she said before she stepped under the water.

"It's ok...more than ok," Bobby answered. "It's nice to play the protective male."

Alex gave him a wan smile.

As Alex showered, Bobby stripped and changed the bed. "Don't push," he told himself. "This may be something she doesn't want you to know...she's entitled to her own thoughts...let her tell when she wants and what she wants...Just do what she does for you...be there for her...let her know you love her...don't judge...don't be afraid...or at least don't let her know you're afraid."

Alex finished her shower and found a shirt and underwear waiting for her on the sink. She slipped on the clothes and ran a comb through her hair. She emerged from the bathroom to meet Bobby coming down the hall with two glasses of iced tea.

"Decaf," he said. "Lots of sugar, lots of lemon." He handed her a glass and followed her into the bedroom.

Alex sat on the edge of the bed and sipped the tea. It was blissfully cold and sweet. Bobby sat next to her and curled his hand around her free one.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he asked.

End Chapter 2

I told you you'd hate it. (g)


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

Disclaimer: Goren and Eames belong to Dick Wolf and  
company.

Bobby and Alex are involved. Issues result.

Alex gently released her hand from Bobby's. She wrapped both hands around her iced tea and stared into its depths.

"How does she do this?" Bobby thought. "I just want to...to talk...and make everything better...do something." He placed a hand on her shoulder.

"It...have you noticed that nightmares always seem silly when you talk about them?" Alex said softly.

"Yea," Bobby replied. "The monsters always have purple dots or something."

She glanced at him and smiled, and then returned to studying her tea. "There were no monsters...just this terrible grey place. I couldn't find you...there was something hunting us...I fell...I lost my gun...I...I...got shot..." Alex seemed on the verge of tears, but managed to control her emotions. "It didn't hurt...there was a lot of blood, but it didn't hurt. The blood was the only thing that seemed to have color in it...It was this terrible bright red…And then you came running out of the fog...and I couldn't warn you...I couldn't get my voice to work...and the thing...shot you...you were in pain...terrible pain...and you were calling to me...and I couldn't answer...couldn't help you...There was all of this red..." Tears began rolling down Alex's face.

Bobby gently took the tea from her and sat it on the table next to her bed. He wrapped his arms around her and held her. "You woke up then" he said into her hair.

She nodded.

"Well," Bobby said, "it's not unusual...not unusual sort of dream for cops. Getting hurt...it's the elephant in the room...and when you're involved with a cop..." Bobby stopped. He wasn't sure how far to press this.

Alex looked up at him and studied his face. "Bobby," she said, "do you mind...my husband...Joel...do you mind...talking about him."

"Of course not, Alex. He's part of what...what made you what you are."

She continued to examine him closely.

"This must be something like what it feels like when I..." Bobby thought.

"You never ask about him." Alex's statement was neither angry nor sad, just matter of fact.

"I didn't think...I had the right...that was your life, and it was your decision to tell me or not."

"Thank you," she said. "But part of you is just dying to know something, right?"

"Well," Bobby answered, "I have to confess...I'm not proud of it...but yes."

She slipped out of his embrace and walked to the large chest that sat at the foot of her bed. She lifted the blankets resting on it and raised the lid. The sweet fresh smell of cedar filled the room. Alex gazed at Bobby over the open lid.

"You're sure? You don't mind?"

Bobby nodded. "I'm sure...I won't deny it might feel strange, but I'm sure."

Alex disappeared behind the open chest. Bobby stood up and watched as she began lifting several photo albums and carefully wrapped packages. She handed them to Bobby, who laid them carefully on the bed. When she finished, Alex closed the lid and walked to the other side of the bed. She sat down and motioned for Bobby to sit. He perched carefully on the edge.

"These pictures," she said opening one album, "are from our days at the Academy." Bobby saw photos of an impossibly young looking Alex Eames, nearly dwarfed by other police and swimming in her uniform. There were also several photos of a handsome young man with reddish blonde hair and blue eyes who could have been the center of a recruitment poster.

"Joe," Alex said, and in those few letters Bobby heard love, regret, and a touch of anger. "He was the perfect recruit—graduated in the top five—always well turned out for inspection—always knew the right answer to every regulation. Funny, easygoing. I was always in trouble—sassing instructors—asking questions—arguing about regulations. He came from a family of cops—father, brother, uncles, grandfather—like me. I think it was our differences and our similarities that brought us together." She shut the album and lifted another, this one clearly a wedding album.

"You were a beautiful bride," Bobby said, and in the white laced Victorian gown Alex Eames was a glorious vision.

Alex smiled at him. "The whole thing got out of control—just having all of Joe's and my brothers and sisters to account for meant it was going to be a monster wedding. And it was Catholic, and his pastor had to be there, and the pastor of my parent's church, and all of the nieces and nephews—it was insane, Bobby, absolutely insane."

Bobby peered at one picture. "Is that...Deakins?"

"Yea, and if you look at some others you can see the Commissioner at that time. Joe was already a rising star."

There was a slight edge to her voice Bobby couldn't quite identify. "And you?" he asked quietly.

"Oh, I was still a beat cop...but I had just gotten in with a great group of cops who were breaking up some drug operations." She studied the wedding photos. "The year after we got married Joe passed his sergeant's exam and got assigned to the Chief's office. The squad I was with got a major bust. The next year I got my gold shield. Meant I had to join vice, but I loved it—I was a NYPD detective. It was lousy work sometime, but I worked hard, got lucky and made second grade."

Alex pushed the wedding album away and brought forth another album. There were pictures of her and Joe in front of a small house, on a beach, with her and his family. She looked at Bobby and then at the photos. "We bought a house—we talked about kids. But..." Alex gnawed briefly on her lower lip. "Joe's career seemed stalled...and I really liked what I was doing...and...I wanted kids, but I didn't think...I wanted, and I thought kids deserved...full attention...There was some pressure from my family...a lot from his...that's part of the reason I'm really not in contact with them much...Joe heard that one of the reasons he wasn't moving up was because there was a perception he didn't have enough street credits...so, he did some finagling, and got his gold shield...got assigned to a good squad..."

Alex sighed.

"He was a good man, Bobby, and a good cop. He never resented me...that I outranked him...he understood why I wanted to wait to have kids...But he...he never thought outside the box...you would have driven him crazy...he never understood why the buddy-boy network made me so angry...if you're a cop, you trust other cops was the way he worked...and it got him killed."

She paused, and turned the pages of the album. There were clippings about Joe's death, his funeral. Photos of ranks of uniformed police, Alex in black at the funeral.

"That's his mother," she pointed at a hysterical woman in one photo. "I never liked her much...she never liked me...Joe wasn't that fond of her, either, truth be told. She went ballistic at the services, and later told me I must be a cold bitch because I didn't break down..."

"What!" Bobby was furious.

"She didn't understand...that I was numb...just numb...and that part of me thought I had to...I couldn't show my feelings...I'd be weak...She wasn't part of a cop's family…She married into it…And she was hurt and angry." Alex closed the album and carefully lifted a triangular box.

"This is the flag that was on his coffin," she said, "and this," she lifted a red carnation preserved in plastic wrap, "is from the bouquet." Alex fingered the carnation. "You know," she said more to herself than Bobby, "I cried like a baby when I put these things away...It was the one time I really cried...could let myself...no one else was around..."

Bobby reached out and placed a hand on hers. She smiled at him. "I'm ok," she said, "just...it's just interesting that these things...they don't stir up much more than a mild interest in me right now..."

Alex stood up and opened the chest. Bobby handed her the packages and albums.

"What's this?" he asked as he handed her a small box.

Alex opened it and fingered the small object. "It's...it's Joe's badge." She held it up for Bobby to see. There were small red splotches on it. Bobby winced. Alex stared at it. "It seemed important," she said "that I not clean it up...is that weird?"

"No," Bobby said softly. "You...needed to preserve something..."

"Yea, I guess so." Alex tenderly rewrapped the box and placed it in the chest. She shut it, stood in thought for a moment, and walked to Bobby. She sat next to him.

"The nightmares started about a week after the funeral. Joe was in trouble, calling for me. I couldn't get to him. Pretty simple, basic stuff. I knew what was going on in my head...didn't make it any easier." She stared at a pattern in the floor.

"No, it doesn't," Bobby said softly.

Alex looked up at him. "I threw myself into work...maybe not the best way, but it was what I knew...and it worked...after a while the dream went away...it'd come back...when I shot the gangster...and when I was pregnant a different version showed up...this time the baby was in trouble, and I couldn't reach it...and now..." Alex reached for Bobby's hand. "Now it's you."

Bobby held her hand. "I...I have the same sorts of dreams about you...I think it's...it's just one of the consequences of our relationship."

Alex ran her thumb on his. Bobby thrilled at her touch. "What if...what if the cost is too much?" she whispered.

Bobby shuddered. "I...don't know...I..." He swallowed. "I can only...Alex, I can't imagine the cost ever being too high for me...but..."

Alex smiled at him. "I guess we just keep dealing with things as they come...it's worked so far..."

"Yea," Bobby said. He was tired, confused and afraid. Alex sensed his exhaustion and confusion.

"We don't have to settle tonight...this morning...we can talk about it more later..." she said.

"Definitely," Bobby replied. "I mean...we've opened something...I don't want to close it."

"Ok," Alex said, pushing Bobby back on the bed.

"Ok," Bobby replied.

"Thank you, Bobby."

End Chapter 3

And I apologize for the long sidetrip into my speculations on Alex's husband, etc.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

Bobby stared at the evidence photos and the paper trail for the fifth time in as many minutes. They all supported his suspicion that Francis Lamont had killed his wife. That discovery did not make him happy. Francis Lamont was a controlling, egotistical jerk, but he was also, as he repeatedly and not so subtly reminded Detectives Goren and Eames as they interviewed him earlier that week, a close friend of the mayor. Bobby sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. He wasn't entirely sure that Lamont was a friend of the mayor—it was Bobby's experience that the mayor of New York scarcely knew most of his "friends"—but the detective knew that Lamont had some pull in the world. Carver was not going to be happy about this. Deakins was not going to be happy about this. And Alexandra Eames was not going to be happy about this.

Bobby smiled at the thought of Alex. He had left her asleep that morning, curled up in her bed with the sunlight just touching her face. After the nightmare and talk in the middle of the night she had fallen into a deep and contented sleep in his arms. Bobby was reluctant to wake her, particularly since he had risen at 5 am. While she, apparently freed from her terrors, had rested, Bobby lay awake with his thoughts racing. They both knew the potential consequences of their relationship. They knew they were violating several chapters of NYPD regulations. They knew their personal relationship might poison their professional, and vice versa. Bobby thought he could deal with those consequences. He had decided soon after the start of the personal relationship—or, rather, soon after the start of the sexual relationship, because he and Alex had always had a personal relationship—that his career would be the one to go. Bobby loved his job; he enjoyed working for the NYPD. But it wasn't his life the way it was Alex's. He would do nearly anything for another officer, but Bobby hadn't been born into the blue tribe the way Alex had. Bobby also knew that Alex was taking the greater risk in the relationship. As the woman, she would, unfairly and unjustly, take the greater blame. She had more to lose. Bobby knew that Alex was as good if not a better detective than him—for one thing, she managed to keep the perps out of her head—but she had more ties to the NYPD, and the perception, wrong though it was, was that he was the brilliant light bulb lighting the way in the partnership while she kept the bulb from burning out. The FBI, special prosecutors, even the NYPD's newly formed terrorism task force were all calling on him. He had a place to go, somewhere to land, and Bobby was seriously considering all of these options if any of them meant he and Alex could be open about their relationship. But Bobby also loved working with Alex. It made everything so much easier. Her mind stimulated and eased his. He would give up the professional before the personal, but Bobby Goren didn't want to.

Bobby looked across at Alex's empty chair. He had left a note next to her coffee cup to tell her he would cover for her if she wanted to sleep or just play hooky. What scared Bobby—what had shaken him to his core last night—was that it was the personal that would hurt them. Bobby had his own fears about his mental state, but he knew that every day that went by meant that his chances of developing schizophrenia were that much less. But Alex's fears were much more substantial, much more likely, and she had experienced the reality of them. Bobby couldn't promise he wouldn't get killed any more than she could promise him the same. Bobby closed his eyes. He couldn't imagine which was worse—the prospect of Alex dying, or of his death leaving her in pain and grief. Bobby opened his eyes. Last night Alex was content to leave things as they were. He wouldn't press it: he would do what Alex wanted.

Deakins entered the office and headed for Bobby's desk. He was just about to speak, and Bobby ready with the quick "she had a doctor's appointment" excuse when Alex entered the office, shed her jacket, and plopped down in her chair.

"I'm on time," she smiled at Deakins, "because you're not in your office yet, right?"

Deakins tried to look stern and failed. "Ok," he said, "but don't push it." He turned to Bobby. "Anything on the Lamont case?"

"Yes," Bobby replied, "but you many not like it..."

Deakins sighed. "You've got evidence to back up your theory that Lamont killed his wife?"

"Yes," Bobby replied, "and I think it might even be enough to convince Carver."

"All right," Deakins said, resigned to his fate, "let's meet with Carver at ten."

"You could have let me get my caffeine first," Alex said as Deakins walked away.

"Hey," Bobby said as he arranged the photos and files and checked to make sure no one was close by, "I let you sleep in."

"No," Alex replied, "I got up at my usual time. You were the early bird." She looked around; the office was only half full. "Were you upset by..."

Bobby shook his head. "No...just thoughts zapping through my head...actually..." He lowered his voice. "It meant...a lot...to know that you trusted me like that. Thank you."

Alex smiled at him. "It's good to know I can trust you. Thank you. Now, do you want to get us some coffee?"

End Chapter 4


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

ADA Ron Carver had his back literally and figuratively against the wall of Captain James Deakins' office. He could occasionally resist Detective Robert Goren. He could even occasionally, if more rarely, resist Detectives Alex Eames and Robert Goren. He could not, however, resist the combination of Detectives Alex Eames, Robert Goren, and Captain James Deakins, especially when they had evidence like this. And especially when ADA Ron Carver knew they were right.

"All right, detectives, you've convinced me...I think you've given me more than enough to convince a jury." Carver's tone was resigned. He wanted the trio facing him to know he was on their side. "But I'd like this to go as smoothly as possible. Is there any way you can convince Mr. Lamont to come to us?"

Alex shook her head. "He's refused to answer his phone...we know he's still at his home...even his lawyer hasn't been able to contact him..."

"We're going to have to arrest him at home," Deakins said quietly.

Bobby sat deep in thought, his head resting in his hand.

"Is there any way this can be done quietly?" Carver asked.

Deakins gave Carver a knowing look. "Pressure, Counselor?"

"Some," Carver replied. "No one wants to be associated with Mr. Lamont at this moment...which you must admit is understandable...but he's had powerful acquaintances in the past."

"We'll do this as low key as possible," Deakins said, "but I will not jeopardize anyone's life for the sake of quiet."

Bobby emerged from his trance. "I don't think," he said, "he'll come quietly. This crime...all of his actions...it's been about control...controlling his wife...controlling us...and once he realizes...and I think he has realized...he's no longer in control...his reaction will be violent..."

Even Alex was spooked by the intensity of Bobby's words and conviction. "Who else may be in the house?" she asked.

Bobby rippled through the papers in his binder. "There's two kids—one is at a prep school upstate—we've got a confirmation that she's there...but there's an eight-year-old son...we need to check with his school..."

Deakins sighed. "Well, let's hope young Mr. Lamont is happily bored in class today. Let's discuss our options."

It took some time and debating among the four of them, with Carver urging caution, Deakins favoring the safety of his forces, Alex wanting to take the guy out as quickly as possible, and Bobby trying to read Lamont's mind, before they settled on a plan. Just before Alex and Bobby left, Deakins received a call. From his expression, Bobby and Alex knew the call wasn't delivering good news.

Deakins hung up the phone, and spoke. "Francis Lamont, Jr., is not in class today. His father called the school to say he was sick."

Carver drew a breath. Alex managed to repress a shiver. Bobby accepted the information, cocked his head slightly, and said, "All right...we'll keep that in mind."

"Good luck, detectives." Carver's voice carried a slight tone of guilt.

"Be careful," Deakins added.

Bobby and Alex nodded as they left his office.

Bobby was quiet as Alex weaved the SUV in and out of traffic.

"You don't like this," she finally said.

"No," he replied. "Too many variables...too many things we don't know...don't control...and what we do know..." He looked at her. "But I know I have you."

"And I've got you."

Bobby's cell phone rang. He answered. "Captain...yes, that's good to know...yea, that's not so good to know...no, I'd appreciate you being there...yes, yes sir. Thank you."

"So," Alex said.

"We're batting .500," Bobby replied. "The son is with relatives on Long Island. But Mr. Lamont apparently likes guns...perhaps big guns."

"Great," Alex sighed. "No chance of a SWAT team?"

Bobby shook his head. "We don't have enough to warrant it...and there's a chance I'm wrong about all of this, Alex. Lamont might be quietly sitting in there doing his work... or he might not be there at all..."

"I'd bet on you," Alex said convincingly, "although I hope you're wrong." She slipped the SUV into a spot near a hydrant. "There's the house."

The Lamont house was a brownstone on a block of brownstones. At the end of the block Alex and Bobby could see a squad car pull up. It was a quiet weekday morning, and few people moved up and down the street.

"I wish we could've blocked the street," Alex said putting on her protective vest.

"I wish we didn't have to wear these things," Bobby mumbled as he wrestled into his. "They barely cover me..."

"Be a good boy, Goren, and I'll let you buy me lunch," Alex replied as she pulled her coat over the vest. She picked up her radio. "Captain, we're going in."

"Be careful, you two," Deakins replied.

Their outer coats on, Bobby and Alex strode up the street. Without thinking, they had fallen into step, Alex stretching her steps, Bobby shortening his. Their eyes were alert, watching for any sign of trouble. They reached the Lamont house, climbed the steps, and prepared to knock. Each carefully slid their hands to their weapons.

"So far, so good," Alex said, raising her hand to the door.

As she knocked, a young man emerged from the neighboring house. He gave Bobby and Alex a friendly nod. Bobby returned the nod and looked up at the windows of the Lamont house. A glint of metal caught his eyes, and Bobby's already racing mind moved into overdrive. The thoughts streamed through his head in seconds. He knew the glint was a gun, and that the gun was leveled at Alex and himself. He knew that the trajectory of any shot meant that the friendly young man would be hurt or killed. He knew that if he moved to warn this innocent he or Alex would be shot. And he knew what he had to do. He had to do what Alex would do if she were in his position, what any good cop would do.

Bobby reached across the railing and shoved the young man down the steps. "Gun! Window!" he screamed and spun as he drew his gun.

The first word was barely out of his mouth before a shot shattered the window and the quiet street. The force of the bullet hit Alex in the chest and forced her back against the railing. Another shot caught her just above her left knee. Alex staggered and fell down the stairs. Bobby managed to get off several shots towards the window before a third shot hit him in his right knee. He staggered, and a fourth shot hit Bobby as he fell. It slammed into the unprotected area just below his neck and just above his right shoulder. Bobby left red splashes on the stairs as he fell to rest near Alex.

A terrible silence descended on the street.

End Chapter 5


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

The terrible silence lasted only seconds. Radios began to shout, tires squealed, and holsters snapped and cracked.

"Dammit, hold your fire!" James Deakins yelled as he braced himself against the inside of the patrol car. "Eames, Goren! Are you there?" His heart fell as responses came from everyone but Goren and Eames. The Captain heard the terrible shots and watched the horrible scene play out in front of him. He knew that Goren had performed exactly as a good cop should—he had gotten a civilian out of the way, but possibly at a huge cost. Deakins watched Eames and then Goren fall out of sight behind parked cars. He had no idea of where they were, how badly they were hurt.

"Hold your fire!" Deakins shouted again into his hand radio as he scrambled out of the car. "Can anyone see them?"

Alex struggled to catch her breath. Each one brought a stabbing pain. Her leg was on fire. She turned her head to see Bobby lying beside her. His eyes were clouded, dazed, and his breath was coming in desperate gasps. "Oh no," Alex thought, "I'm shot...he's shot...not again...please..."

"So," Bobby thought as he slid down the stairs, "this is what it's like to be shot." The pain in his right knee shot through his body with every heartbeat, but Bobby knew the more dangerous wound was the one that was filling his protective vest with blood. "Stay still," he told himself, "Alex...where's ..." He turned his head and met her frightened and pain filled eyes. "She's alive...thank..."

A movement at the top of the steps caught Bobby's eyes, and just inside the door he saw Francis Lamont. "We're sitting ducks," Bobby thought, and with his ebbing strength he reached out, grabbed Alex, and rolled with her to rest between two parked cars. Both of them screamed with pain. Lamont, shouting, pushed towards the open door.

"I have a clean shot!" Deakins radio clattered.

"Take it!" Deakins shouted.

A shot rang out, and Lamont dropped his gun. He fell in the doorway and clung to his leg. A mass of blue surrounded him. "I'm shot," he screamed, "you shot me!"

"Shut up, or we'll shoot you again!" one of the cops yelled.

"I'm so cold," Alex thought. She began to realize the pain in her chest came from the bullet stopped by her vest. She tried to rise, but Bobby's arms around her stopped her.

"Bobby," she whispered, "please...let me up..." She pushed gently against his arm; he let her go. Alex rose to a sitting position and leaned against a car. She felt dizzy, sick. "Bobby," she thought, "have to help Bobby."

He was lying on his left side, his legs on the curb. He was pale, paler than Alex had ever seen anyone alive. His lips were moving, his body shaking with the effort of breathing. Alex leaned over him. She had to place her head near his to hear his voice.

"Alex...I'm sorry...sorry...I love you...please forgive me..." He gasped out the words.

"Bobby...nothing to forgive...I love you too...please, don't...don't die..."

"I...I'm trying not to. Want...to...live...want you."

Alex fumbled with the closures of Bobby's vest, but her own pain made it difficult to get her fingers to work.

"Alex, Bobby..." Deakins dropped beside them. He had followed the blood streaks on the sidewalk. Both Alex and Bobby were covered in blood, and Deakins couldn't tell who was more badly hurt. "Hang on...the ambulance is coming..."

"Help him," Alex said, "please..."

Two officers came from the street side and began removing Bobby's coat and vest. Alex saw him wince with pain. Deakins got Alex out of her coat and vest, and Alex cried out. She could feel a massive bruise forming on her chest. Deakins grabbed his handkerchief and placed it against the wound in her leg. "Hold that there," he told Alex.

"I'm drowning," Bobby thought, "I'm drowning in my own blood." He turned his head to see Deakins helping Alex. "But she's all right...Alex is..." He cried out as the two cops eased the vest off him. The world blurred, and then Deakins' face focused in front of him.

"Hang on, Bobby." Deakins took off his coat and slipped it beneath Bobby's head.

"Captain...I'm sorry...I..."

"You did everything right, Bobby. Everything." Deakins laid a hand on Bobby's shoulder.

Alex eased over. "Bobby," she whispered, and gripped his hand.

Bobby looked at her. He couldn't say anything. It was too hard to breath. He could feel his blood covering him. It felt terribly warm against his cold skin.

Deakins stood up. "Where's that ambulance?" he shouted. He saw a stunned young man sitting on a step. Two officers flanked him; another was wrapping him in a blanket. The young man looked up at Deakins.

"He..." he pointed down at Goren. "He saved me...he shoved me..."

Two ambulances roared down the block. Deakins heard Lamont's voice whimper for help. The Captain was so full of rage he didn't dare move towards the man; he turned his attention back to his detectives.

The ambulances finally arrived, and EMTs quickly reached Alex and Bobby. "Please, detectives," one of them said gently, "you have to let go of each other...let us help you."

End Chapter 6


	7. Chapter 7

As always, thanks for the kind reviews.

Chapter 7

Alex struggled awake. Her chest hurt, her leg hurt. It hurt to breath. It hurt to be awake. Everything hurt. Someone was holding her hand. She blinked; the light was horribly bright. "Bobby?" she gasped and looked into her father's worried eyes.

"Easy, baby," her father smoothed her hair. "It's ok...you're all right."

Alex looked at him with exasperation. "I know I'm all right," she thought. "It's Bobby that I'm worried about." The last image Alex remembered was Bobby's face as he was wheeled in one direction while she went in another. He was struggling to stay conscious, his eyelashes fluttering over his chocolate eyes which seemed incredibly dark in comparison to his terribly white face.

Her older brother appeared over her father's shoulder, followed by a nurse. The nurse gently shoved the two men away. They roosted restlessly in a corner while she checked on Alex. "Here," she said, and gave Alex a cup with a straw. Alex sipped the cool water gratefully.

"My partner---Bo..Detective Goren...how is he?"

The nurse studied her. Alex's heart flipped inside her. "She's hesitating...oh no..." Alex thought.

"He's in critical, but stable condition. I know he lost a lot of blood, and there was some damage to his lung. But he's gotten through two surgeries in 24 hours and he's apparently a very strong and stubborn man." The nurse leaned forward and gently adjusted Alex's pillow. She radiated comfort and competency, and Alex liked her. "You hungy?"

Alex shook her head.

"How about something like a milkshake?"

Alex considered. "Chocolate?"

"Chocolate," the nurse replied. "And I'll check on Detective Goren's condition. But don't worry—we like police around here."

Alex wanted to crawl into a ball, to weep for Bobby and herself, but she saw her brother and father approaching. "Can't break," she thought. "Can't let them know..." She smiled wanly at them.

The next few minutes were agony for Alex. Her brother and father meant well, but the only thing she wanted was Bobby. She was grateful when the nurse, milkshake in hand, arrived.

"You two, out," she said to Alex's brother and father. "She needs rest."

"Thank you," Alex said softly. She took a tentative sip of the milkshake. It was surprisingly good.

"You're welcome." The nurse looked at Alex carefully. "I checked on Detective Goren's condition—he's getting better, but it's still touch and go. He's in a drug induced coma, and will be for a couple of days."

"Can I see him?"

"Not right away—you've a nasty leg wound and a couple of broken ribs. But if you behave yourself I'll see what I can do about getting you a wheelchair and down to intensive care."

The next few hours passed in a daze for Alex. She was in some pain, although the painkillers made it seem that the pain belonged to someone else. Her family drifted in and out, but her thoughts remained fixed on Bobby. Someone helped her eat some soup. At some point Alex drifted into an uneasy sleep. She dreamed of Joe and Bobby, and at some point she realized she couldn't remember what Joe looked like.

Alex woke with a start. Her room was dark, and the faint light at her bed illuminated the form of Captain James Deakins, drifting towards sleep in the chair next to her.

"Captain," she whispered.

He woke with a shake, and then smiled at her. "Alex," he said softly, "it's good to see you awake. Do you need anything?" He leaned towards her.

"Bobby?"

"I just saw him before I came to your room. He's still in the coma, but the doctors are pleased. They hope to start bringing him out of it in the next two days."

"I...I want to see him..."

Deakins took her hand gently in his. "Don't push, Alex. You didn't take a walk in the park yourself, ok?"

Alex reluctantly retreated. "You look beat..."

"Just the usual political fallout. Don't worry...you and Bobby are the heroes here. It turns out that the guy Bobby shoved out of the way really is a friend of the mayor, unlike Lamont, who is currently the friend of no one."

"You caught in a crossfire?" Alex shifted carefully.

"Not as bad as the one Carver's in," Deakins replied, "and right now, I'm not inclined to be sympathetic." He looked at her carefully. "Alex, look, this sort of an incident...I'm seen it break up really good partners. Whatever happens...you...take all the time you need."

"I..will".

Deakins left her with a gentle squeeze of her hand. Alex tossed and turned through the night, the hospital bed suddenly uncomfortable, the painkillers useless. When the morning nurse arrived, Alex was picking listlessly at her breakfast.

"Ready for a ride?" the nurse asked cheerfully.

"Where?" Alex asked guardedly.

"To see that partner of yours."

Alex tried to hide the pain in her leg as the orderly wheeled her down the hall. Just outside the ICU an impossibly young doctor intercepted them and took over the driving duties.

"So you're Alex," she said. "He's murmured your name a few times, especially before he went into surgery."

Alex stared at her hands in her lap. "We..we're partners...friends...we're close."

The doctor nodded. "Look, it's going to be a little scary—he's hooked up to a lot of things—it looks much worse than it is. Just talk to him—read to him if you want—hold his hand. It'll all help."

"How...how bad?"

"The greatest danger was the blood loss and the shock. He's past that...although that was a bit of a miracle. He has a great will to live. We're going to start bringing him out of the coma tomorrow. Here we are..."

Alex peered through the glass divider. It was scary. Bobby lay elevated in a bed. Tubes were going everywhere. A respirator was breathing for him, and his eyes were taped shut. His face was horribly pale. In spite of the stubble that covered his face, Bobby looked young and vulnerable. Alex shivered. The doctor carefully moved the wheelchair through the door.

"The respirator..." Alex whispered.

"Just while he's on the drugs...we'll try to remove it when he wakes up."

"The tape...on his eyes..."

"Just to help him stay asleep. It's bright in here, and that can be disruptive. Those will go soon, too." The doctor carefully set the chair next to Bobby's bed. "I swear to you, in spite of appearances, he is getting better." The doctor gave Alex a reassuring smile, and walked away.

Alex felt a part of her heart break. "Oh, Bobby," she whispered. She winced as she leaned forward, but still let her hand touch his rumpled curls. She let her hand slip down and across the thickening, soft stubble on his cheeks. His right neck and shoulder were covered in a heavy bandage. Alex took Bobby's left hand in both of hers; she leaned forward and softly brushed her lips against his hand.

"Oh, Bobby," she whispered again, "I don't know if I can do this.

End Chapter 7


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

The next two days found Alex Eames out of her hospital room more than in it. There were X-Rays, physical therapy (more like ancient torture in Alex's mind), trips to the visitors' lounge to see her nephews and nieces. (Her surrogate nephew examined her leg wound gravely and kept asking for "Big Guy", his name for Bobby. Alex explained to him that "Big Guy" had been hurt, but was getting better, and she would let him see "Big Guy" as soon as she could.) But most of her time was spent at Bobby's side. Her family was puzzled, even upset, but her father and one of her sister-in-laws seemed to understand at least some of her need to be with Bobby.

Alex had told her nephew the truth—Bobby was getting better. Every day more of the equipment went away and, although he was still terribly pale, he no longer looked like a ghost. Alex read the papers to him, told him how horrible the hospital food was (the nurses soon began delivering her meals to her at Bobby's bedside), and watched baseball games on a small TV. He was still unconscious, but the doctors were beginning to ease him out of his coma. Bobby's doctor encouraged Alex's contact with him. "He probably hears you, is aware of you, on some level," she told Alex.

Deakins was his only other visitor. Alex had no idea if Lewis or any of his other friends knew Bobby was in the hospital, and she had no idea of how to contact his brother. Deakins had let Carmel Ridge know about his condition, but Bobby's mother was certainly not going to come. Deakins came with flowers for Alex, left them in her room, and sat with her next to Bobby. They talked softly and briefly about everything except what really mattered, namely Bobby, and Bobby and Alex.

Early on the evening of the second day Alex drifted off to sleep in her chair next to Bobby's bed. She was still trying to heal herself, and painkillers added to her drowsiness. She stirred when she became aware of another person in the room.

"Hey, Lex," her sister-in-law, the nurse, the one who seemed to understand, said. "Sorry to wake you."

"It's ok," Alex said. "This isn't the most comfortable place for a nap."

"How you feeling?"

"Better...I snapped at the PT guy today and he was very pleased."

Her sister-in-law grinned. "How's he doing?" She nodded at Bobby.

Alex looked at Bobby. "Better...he's been moving a little...the doctors think he'll come out of it tomorrow some time."

Her sister-in-law nodded. "He's got good nurses...they're good in any situation, but they like him." She smiled at Alex. "They like you."

Alex snorted. "Even when I'm in the way?"

"Especially when you're in the way." Her sister-in-law turned back towards Bobby. "They can't understand why he doesn't have more..."

Alex stroked Bobby's hand. "He's been alone...I think...most of his life. I think he thinks it's a choice he made."

"You don't?"

Alex considered the question. "I think," she said, "some choices are forced on us."

Her sister-in-law pulled a chair up and sat. "Look, Lex, this is none of my business, so shut me up if you want. But, well, I told you once I thought you and Bobby were...soul mates...and...well...are you...involved?"

Alex stared at Bobby's hand. "I laughed when you starting on that soul mate stuff," she said, "but...soon after that...I realized you were right. We've always been "involved"...it's just that recently...well, we've been "involved" in the way most people think of that." Alex took a deep breath. "And it's been wonderful...in spite of all of our problems, the pressures, the regulations, his issues, my issues...it's...wonderful." The words came in a rush, and Alex realized how desperately she had wanted to tell someone about her relationship with Bobby.

"Oh, Alex," her sister-in-law knelt before her and took her hand, "do you know what you're doing?"

"If you mean, do I know the potential costs, yes. If you mean, do I know how or why, no."

Her sister-in-law smiled. "Ok, then I'm happy for you...and I won't tell." She looked at Bobby. "He's a wonderful guy, Alex, but he's..."

"Got a lot of problems." Alex said, and thought, "You don't know half of it, girl."

"Yea..."

A movement and noise from the bed interrupted them. Bobby appeared to be moving, and then shaking. Alex gripped his hand tightly, and received a grip in return.

"I think he's...waking up," Alex said tentatively.

"I'll get a nurse," her sister-in-law replied.

Bobby struggled weakly against the darkness. Something was in his mouth, his chest, he couldn't see, no, he couldn't open his eyes. "Alex...Alex...I hear you," he thought, "where are you...please help me...I hurt...chest, shoulder, knee hurt...Alex...are you all right? Please, please let her be all right...So thirsty...Alex..." He felt a hand grip his; he clung to it.

Bobby tried to turn towards Alex's voice. He seemed to be in some distress.

"Bobby," Alex leaned forward and stroked his cheek. "It's all right...you're in the hospital...you're coming out of sleep...you're on a respirator...if you can hear me, squeeze my hand twice."

Alex received two weak but definite squeezes.

"She's alive," Bobby thought, "I can hear her...feel her hand..."

"Hang on Bobby...they're coming...the nurses...They'll help you.

Bobby gripped her hand tightly.

Bobby's doctor and a squadron of nurses arrived. The doctor glanced at Alex, who nodded at her.

"Mr. Goren," the doctor said quietly, "I'm Dr. Sengtupa...I'm going to help you, all right? Can you nod your head?"

Bobby nodded.

"Good, good. The first thing I'm going to do is open your eyes. It's going to be bright...be ready, Ok?"

Alex watched as the doctor gently removed the tape from Bobby's eyes. He blinked in the light, and turned to see her. The sight of his dark brown eyes nearly caused Alex to weep. She had missed those eyes more than she had known.

"Good," the doctor said. "Now, we're going to see if you can do without this respirator...Ms. Eames, could you move over a bit?"

Alex gently disengaged her fingers from Bobby's hand and rolled the wheelchair back. Bobby's eyes followed her. The doctor and nurses stepped around Bobby's bed, and began disconnecting tubes and machines. "All right, Mr. Goren," the doctor said, "I can't promise this won't be uncomfortable. When I tell you, take a deep breath...cough if you have to...all right, now breathe..."

Alex heard a nasty, slurping sound, and then a gasp, followed by several coughs.

"Good, very good," the doctor said. "I bet your throat is sore...we'll get you some nice cool water...don't try to talk too much..."

The doctor and several nurses stepped away, carrying equipment with them. Another nurse gently arranged Bobby on his pillows and adjusted the bed. She nodded to Alex and said, "I'll be back with some water and some painkillers."

Alex wheeled back up to the bed. Bobby stared at her. At first she couldn't make out the look in his eyes, but then she recognized it.

"He's afraid," she thought.

End Chapter 8


	9. Chapter 9

Thanks to all who've given reviews, put this and other stories of mine on favorite lists, and the other encouraging words. Much appreciated. (And so is criticism!)

Chapter 9

Before Alex could speak to Bobby, Dr. Sengtupa and the chorus of nurses returned. The doctor carefully hooked up something to Bobby's IV; a nurse gave Bobby some water to sip. He drank deeply and gratefully. "Thank you," he croaked. His voice was raspy and painful to hear.

The nurse patted him on the arm. Alex could see she was already falling under the Goren charm. "It works," Alex thought, "even when he's just coming out of a coma."

"Mr. Goren," Dr. Sengtupa said, "this is your pain medication—you control it with this switch...press it, and some will be delivered through your IV. Don't worry about giving yourself too much...it's set so that won't happen...and we've found that when people regulate their own intake they tend to use less medication. So, don't let yourself suffer, ok?"

Bobby nodded. Alex could see he was fighting exhaustion and some pain.

"Do you have any questions?" the doctor asked.

"How...what happened to me?" Bobby asked with some effort.

The doctor studied Bobby for a moment and decided this was a patient who needed more information rather than less. "The bullet tore some of your shoulder and chest muscle and went through the upper part of your right lung. It hit a rib before it passed out through your chest. It took two surgeries to get everything cleaned up. You lost a lot of blood. Our major concern right now is infection, but there hasn't been any sign of that. The injury to your knee may ultimately prove to be more painful. That bullet nicked the kneecap. As soon as you're strong enough, we'll get you started on physical therapy for your knee and shoulder. Ms. Eames can tell you about that."

"More like torture," Alex said lightly.

Bobby glanced at her. Alex caught sight of fear in his eyes.

"Will I...be able to stay...my job?" Bobby asked hesitantly.

"So," Alex thought, "that's what he's afraid of..."

"Well," the doctor replied, "you're not going to be the fastest gun east of the Hudson, but you should be able to get back to chasing bad guys if you pay attention to us."

Bobby, visibly relieved, blinked.

"Now," the doctor said, "do what the nurses tell you. They have the real power here, and know what's best. I'll be around to check on you before I go home tonight, and Dr. Leight, who worked on your knee, will be in early tomorrow."

Bobby nodded.

"Get some sleep—it's the best thing right now—and take your medicine." The doctor turned to Alex as she left. "And that's good advice for you, too, Detective Eames."

"I may be able to do that now," Alex said with a smile. She turned her attention to Bobby.

The nurse adjusted his IV's. "Would you like something to eat? Some soup?" she asked.

Bobby winced slightly.

"Don't be afraid to use your pain medication." The nurse pointed to the dispenser. Bobby finally submitted and pushed the button.

"Helps?" the nurse asked.

Bobby, looking relieved and surprised, nodded.

"Don't try to be all big and macho," the nurse said, "it'll only make your recovery take longer. I'll see about that soup."

Alex wheeled to the bed. The painkiller was clearly helping, but Bobby looked exhausted. She gently laid her hand on his. He turned towards her. The painkiller had dulled his eyes slightly, but Alex clearly saw fear in them. "What now?" she thought.

"Better?" Alex whispered to him.

Bobby nodded. "Tired...so tired..." he rasped.

"Don't talk too much...let your throat heal..."

"Are you...how bad..." Bobby's eyes brimmed with tears.

"Not bad at all...sore leg, more of an annoyance than anything...and a lovely, magnificent bruise that looks like some of those paintings you like. I hope you get to see it soon."

Bobby struggled to stay awake and control his emotions. "I'm sorry...so sorry...Alex...I should have saved you..."

"Bobby," Alex's voice was gentle and firm. "You did what was right...you saved the civilian...you made the hard call...and you did save me...when you rolled us away..."

Bobby shook his head. "No...should have...sorry...love you, Alex." His exhaustion took him.

End Chapter 9


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

"So, Detective Eames, any bad dreams?" Dr. Emile Skoda moved a set of files from one side of his desk to the other.

Alex shifted slightly in her chair. She always had a skepticism of psychiatrists and psychologists: her time with Bobby had oddly increased both her respect for what they could do and her skepticism. Pressed by her superiors and some of her family, she had seen a psychiatrist briefly after Joe's death. That psychiatrist had not impressed or helped her. But Alex liked Skoda. He was no-nonsense, down-to-earth, blunt perhaps, but Alex found their encounters on cases valuable. And she knew that Bobby, who had more experience than most people in this area, respected Skoda.

"No," Alex replied. "No bad dreams. It's surprised me, really, I keep expecting them. But I'm sleeping remarkably well. It's as if...well, it's as if one of the worst things that I could imagine happened, and it wasn't as bad as I thought it would be. It's like it's over and done with."

Skoda studied her for a moment. "Sounds pretty healthy to me. So why are you here? Department requirement?"

Alex nodded and quietly considered how much she could tell Skoda.

"There's something else?" he asked.

Alex cautiously moved into the jungle. "Yes, my partner."

Skoda gave a quick smile. "Ah, Detective Robert Goren—the genius of Major Case. One of my colleagues described a dinner to me that she had with him. She got the impression he know more about psychology, particularly criminal psychology, than she could ever hope to know. And she has her office lined with degrees from most of the Ivy League."

Alex felt a tinge of anger, although she wasn't sure if it was driven by jealousy (the woman sounded like a former girlfriend) or fear that Bobby was being taken for granted.

"He works very hard," Alex said, "it's not that he just spins these things out of the air."

"I didn't mean to suggest that," Skoda said. "I've seen him in action—I agree—he works very hard. And now..."

"He's..." Alex considered her words carefully. "Physically, he's doing great...he should be able to go home within the week...And I don't think he's afraid of anything happening to him...But..." Alex leaned forward. "Look, he did everything he was supposed to. He saved the civilian's life. Given the circumstances, we did everything we could to protect ourselves. I've thought hard about this, Doctor, I really have. And I don't think...I'm pretty sure I'm not holding any hidden feelings of resentment or anger towards him. But he can't...won't...talk to me. I think he's guilty about what happened to me. And I'm afraid..." Alex paused. She was afraid of so many  
things. "I'm afraid it will destroy our partnership...and that means...it's so good..."

Skoda sensed there were many things Alex Eames had left unsaid, but that she had revealed all that she could or would. "I don't sense any hidden or suppressed anger on your part, Detective. As for your partner, you may just have to wait...he's exceptionally bright, and he'll figure things out."

"What if he doesn't," Alex said more to herself than to Skoda. "What if I can't wait?"

"Then you'll have to make a very difficult decision," Skoda replied.

"One of the things I don't like about psychiatrists and psychologists," Alex thought as she left Skoda's office, "is that they don't make you feel better. I thought that was their job." She snorted to herself. One of the first late night/early morning dinner/breakfasts conversations she had shared with Bobby involved a long discussion about the role of psychiatry. "It's not always meant to make you feel better," Bobby said to her, "It's meant to get you to think more clearly about yourself. And that's not often pleasant."

Alex hailed a cab and headed, as she had every day for the past month, to the hospital. Outside the hospital, as she had every day for the past month, she stopped to buy the TIMES, the POST, and the DAILY NEWS and two large coffees. Today would be a very good day; she didn't have to face a physical therapy session. Alex headed up to Bobby's room. She smiled and nodded at the nurse at the station.

"He have a good night?" Alex asked.

"Well, as good as any," the nurse replied. "He'll probably be a little worn out...he had a PT session this morning."

"Well, maybe the coffee will help," Alex said.

"I'm glad you bring that in...sometimes I think it's the only thing we can get into him. You know," the nurse said, "we all love him...he's sweet and polite and smart and funny...he'll do anything we ask of him and never makes any demands...but it's all we can do to get food inside of him...I hope somebody will make sure he eats when he gets home next week."

"I will, if no one else does," Alex said firmly. "Next week...they're talking about next week?"

"Yes," the nurse replied. "I'm glad you're looking out for him...and I can tell you he really looks forward to your visiting him every day...you mean a lot to him...makes some of us jealous, the way he talks about you."

Alex smiled at the nurse. She liked the nurses who were taking care of Bobby, and liked that they liked her. As she walked down the hall, Alex realized these daily visits had been an anchor in the last month. They had sustained her through her own recovery, the pain and monotony of her therapy sessions, and recently through the mounds of paperwork she had to deal with while on desk duty. She and Deakins were no longer Bobby's only visitors. Lewis appeared every two to three days, often bringing photos of his latest project. During his last visit he had flirted with Alex, and she had been surprised and rather pleased to see a shadow of jealousy streak across Bobby's eyes. Alex had her moments with the green monster as well. Two of Bobby's former girlfriends, both tall, both willowy, both brunettes, visited him. Alex found herself standing in the hallway waiting with one.

"You probably think this is weird—visiting an old boyfriend," the brunette said.

"Well, not necessarily," Alex replied.

"It's just...look, I love my fiance...I'm very happy...but Bobby was...special. It's just that I felt like every time I got him to open a door, there was another one closed in front of me. And I just couldn't keep trying to unlock those doors, you know?"

"I do know," Alex thought as she approached Bobby's door. Throughout the past month she felt as if Bobby was shutting and locking doors, doors she thought they had already opened. Alex took a deep breath, knocked and entered the room.

He was glad to see her...he was always glad to see her, even when it seemed he couldn't open to her. Bobby sat up in bed. He looked tired and thin—she'd have to work on getting him to eat—but his color was good. He had shaved that morning, and he looked impossibly young. She handed him the coffee; he thanked her. She gave him the TIMES, and sat down in the chair next to him. For an hour they sat in a contented silence, broken only occasionally when they read each other something or asked for a section of the paper.

Alex looked up at Bobby. The sunlight hit him and gave him a gentle glow. He was beautiful, and Alex felt her heart and body yearn for him. She wanted him more than anything in the world. She wanted him around her, in her, to feel him, to hear him, to touch him. The strength of her desire took her breath away. Her physical need for Bobby had been suppressed by her own recovery and her concern for him; its sudden return knocked her off balance. "I'm so glad he's alive," Alex thought.

"Bobby," she said.

"H-m-m?" he replied, still absorbed in the paper.

Alex stood up and moved to the bed. "Please..." She took his hand. "I need you...please...kiss me..."

Surprised, Bobby looked at her. "Alex?"

"Please...kiss me..." Alex sat on the edge of the bed and kissed him. She moved carefully; bandages still covered his wounds and she didn't want to hurt him. His body responded to hers. Bobby wrapped his free left arm around her. He returned her kiss, his tongue gently opening her mouth. Alex moaned into the kiss, and let her hand slip inside Bobby's shirt and her fingers play on his stomach and chest. Bobby groaned and let his left hand slip inside Alex's blouse to touch her breasts.

Alex winced. Bobby broke the kiss and contact. He pulled back and stared at Alex.

"Oh, God, Alex...I'm sorry..."

"It's ok...just tender..." Alex touched his left arm. She was dizzy from the kiss and the need to have more contact with Bobby.

"No...I hurt you...please..." Bobby pulled away from her as much as he could.

"Bobby...it's just...you hit a tender spot...I want you...need you..." Alex felt desperation rise in her.

"I keep hurting you..." Bobby said softly.

"No..." Alex took his face between her hands. "You do not keep hurting me...the only way you hurt me is when you shut me out."

Bobby swallowed and tentatively raised his left hand to touch Alex's hand on his cheek. "I'm sorry...I..."

"Bobby, just tell me what you feel...just be honest..."

"I...I don't know what... so much...I'm so scared..." Bobby trembled and then fell into Alex's arms. "I know... I think I know what's happening," he whispered into her shoulder. "I know...what you and Deakins and everyone says...I know I did the right thing...but I keep seeing you...lying there...and...not being able to do anything..."

"It was terrible for me, too," Alex held him. "We have to work this out...I can only tell you that I can't lose you because of this...

Bobby turned his head so that Alex could see his eyes. "I...I don't know if ...I can bear to go through this...even the chance of losing you..."

There was a knock at the door.

"Detective Goren?" Ron Carver's smooth voice asked.

End Chapter 10


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Alex leaped from Bobby's bed. She and Bobby both winced in pain. Alex retreated to a corner as Carver entered. Bobby managed to smooth the bed clothes, and he greeted Carver with as much civility as he could muster.

"Counselor," Bobby said.

"Detective," Carver replied, "Or should I say detectives."

Alex seethed. Any anger she felt regarding her and Bobby's wounds was directed at Carver. She carefully avoided him during her time at work, and sensed he was attempting the same. Bobby, however, was all gracious manners, and it occurred to Alex that, while Bobby's professional relationship with Carver was stormy, his personal one was reasonably friendly. Her professional relationship with Carver was civil, but they scarcely had a personal one. "Must be a boy thing," Alex thought. She was suddenly tired, tired of Carver, tired of Bobby and all his problems, tired of being tired.

"I'll leave you boys to have fun," she said. For a moment Bobby gave her a look of unvarnished pain. "I'll see you tomorrow, Bobby, if only to force feed you." Bobby's expression remained guarded, but relief swept through it.

"Yea, please...I appreciate the papers and the coffee...and the company."

Alex was ready to forgive him, but felt unable to play a part in front of Carver. "Gentlemen," she said and swept out of the room.

"She's angry with me," Carver said quietly, "and I can't blame her."

"I'm angry with you, too," Bobby thought, as he remembered how warm and soft Alex felt in his arms.

"It wasn't your fault," Bobby said, and then, as the thought hit him with full force, "it wasn't anyone's fault..." He was lost in his head.

"Detective?" Carver asked.

"Sorry...drifted there," Bobby gave Carver his most charming smile.

"I have something for you—help you while away the time," Carver handed Bobby a small box. Bobby gave him a quizzical look, and unwrapped the package. He laughed—one of his first genuine laughs in a month—when he saw its contents. "A Shelby Mustang, uh?"

"And," Carver said, handing over a small bag, "some materials to use on it."

Bobby grinned.

He had some time to work on the model over the next few days. There was the physical therapy that left him feeling like a battered noodle, although the sessions in the hospital pool were relaxing. And there were the visits from Alex, the highlights of his day in spite of the strain that accompanied them. He wanted her, needed her desperately. His body and soul called for her, but he said nothing. Bobby felt he had no right. And she seemed lost in her own thoughts.

Alex was with him when his doctor told him he would be discharged the next day.

"Of course, you should have someone to check on you..." the doctor said.

"He will," Alex stated.

Bobby looked at her with gratitude.

Alex left the hospital and stopped at Bobby's apartment. She had made a point of picking up his mail, making sure that his bills were paid, but she hadn't actually spent much time in the rooms. His landlord had made sure Bobby's cleaning service did its job (the landlord liked the idea of having a policeman in the building, especially a big, strong, and quiet policeman like Bobby), but Alex decided to give the rooms a once over.

She made sure the bed had clean sheets and the bathroom clean towels. Alex was about to leave when she noticed several neat piles on Bobby's desk. Curiosity drove her to look at them. One pile contained several letters and pamphlets concerning a career with the FBI. Another contained information about several private or semi-private security firms. A third contained letters and emails from the head of the NYPD counter terrorism force. Alex sat heavily in the desk's chair.

"He's leaving me," she thought blindly. "How could he...what..." She shook her head. "This is what you get for snooping, girl...wait...he's not leaving you...he's doing it...to be with you...a contingency plan…" She took a deep breath. Alex looked around Bobby's apartment. In comparison to hers, it was spare, utilitarian. There were no family pictures or tokens of friends. Alex stood up and looked on the bookshelves. There were no photo albums or scrapbooks. She had seen in Bobby's closets—she knew there were no boxes of memories hiding in their corners. The only personal items were in another pile on his desk, one that held items collected during the past few months. Ticket stubs from baseball games, from the ballet, the opera. Pictures of Alex and Bobby, a pressed flower. Small things, but all connected with her.

Alex sat again. "No wonder he's so scared," she thought. "I'm it in his life." And Alex was afraid. "It's too much," she thought. "I can't be all of that...But he's already all of that to me."

Bobby's doctor was issuing last minute instructions to him when Alex arrived the next morning. "A copy for you," she said, handing Alex a set of instructions.

"Don't worry," Bobby said. "It essentially comes down to change the bandages, keep your appointments, eat, get plenty of sleep, and don't do anything stupid."

"Well," Alex said, "we can forget about that last item..."

Bobby grinned at her. His doctor rolled her eyes.

Bobby didn't argue with Alex as she helped him into his apartment. He wasn't sure he needed the crutches, but he also didn't want to challenge her. He sat on his couch while she took his bag into his bedroom.

"We have to talk," Bobby thought. "But I don't know what to say...she..."

"Bobby," Alex said. "We need to talk about these." She waved the job materials in the air.

End Chapter 11


	12. Chapter 12

Final Chapter

Ok, confession time. This is actually an early fic of mine, and I've never been quite satisfied with it. I fiddled a bit with the ending, but it's still not quite what I want. But I can't figure out what to do with it, so here it is.

Chapter 12

"You planning on leaving, Goren?" Alex's tone was light, but Bobby heard the underlying strain.

"Alex," he rubbed the back of his head. "I wish I could stand up and pace," Bobby thought.

"Look," Alex said flopping down on the couch next to him, "I'm in the wrong in a way—but they were open on your desk..."

"I'm...not planning to leave," Bobby stuttered. "I just thought...if someone found out...that...there should be...a backup plan..."

"And I have no say in this?" Bobby detected the irritation in Alex's voice.

"Of course, but...I didn't..." He stared at the floor. "But…I…I…"

"Bobby, you have to talk to me. Stop closing the doors. Trust me...trust me to love you and for us to work these things out." Alex fought to keep her voice calm.

"I..." Bobby floundered. "I don't trust well Alex. Everyone I've ever trusted...They've left...They've..."

"Or you've driven them away..." Alex said softly.

Anger rose in Bobby. He moved suddenly across the couch and enveloped Alex. He kissed her roughly, savagely.

"H-mm-f, no, NO, Bobby!" Alex shoved him. Bobby fell back against the couch. Alex stood and trembled with anger and fear.

"Don't you do it, Bobby Goren. I love you, I love what you do to me, but you are not going to get out of this with sex."

Bobby stared at her and staggered to his feet. Alex braced herself, but Bobby stumbled away from her and headed towards his bedroom. He managed to get to the bedroom door before his leg collapsed. He cried out in pain and slammed his hand against the floor in frustration.

Alex was behind him immediately. "Are you hurt..."

"No! Just get away from me..." Bobby flailed with his good arm.

"Bobby," Alex was trying to keep her voice reasonable, "We have to talk...even fight..."

Bobby's rage ceased in face of his exhaustion and pain. "I can't do that," he said in a small voice. He gasped for breath and trembled in anger and fear

Alex was confused. "Can't do what, Bobby?" She knelt cautiously by his side.

"Fight...when people fought in my life...they always left...or went crazy..." Bobby sounded like a small child.

Alex gently touched him on the back. When he didn't resist her, she tenderly took his chin in her hands and turned his face towards her. "Maybe I can teach you how. My parents were experts. They'd go to their room, fight, and the next morning the two of them would be making goo-goo eyes over the breakfast table."

He couldn't look her in the eyes, but Bobby raised his hand to Alex's cheek. "You...deserve better than me, Alex...you deserve a house, and kids...and...the job…you could be a captain…I…I could hurt your chances…"

Alex took a deep breath. "I had some of that... or a chance at it...and I've realized...that what I want...what I deserve...is you. And if that means I have to change my job, or face my family's wrath, or risk..." She swallowed..."risk losing you, like I did Joe… then I'll accept those  
consequences for the time I get with you. And you deserve me, Bobby. You're a good and brave man. You were...willing to...to not only give up your life to do the right thing...You were willing to give the thing you loved..."

Bobby stared at her and quickly looked at the floor. "It was...so hard... to nearly lose you," he whispered. "To know I might leave you alone and hurt…But if you...you can do it, stand it, maybe I can too."

Alex leaned forward and kissed him softly on the forehead. "Let me help you up," she said, and eased Bobby to the bed. "You didn't hurt yourself throwing that tantrum, did you?"

"I don't…think so," Bobby replied.

Alex unbuttoned his shirt and helped him slip it off. A bandage, blessedly white, covered his right shoulder and upper chest. Alex softly touched his chest, letting her hand ripple across its soft hairs. Bobby leaned towards her and brushed his lips across hers. She responded by bending down and kissing his chest. She gently nipped and kissed one of his nipples. Bobby groaned softly and let his hands run through her hair. Alex raised her head to give Bobby a sweet, seductive smile. He took her face in his hand and raised it to meet his lips. Bobby unbuttoned her blouse; she slipped it off.

"Oh, Alex, my baby..." Bobby let his hand brush gently over the fading bruise just visible beneath Alex's bra.

"Ok, Bobby, no rough stuff...I'm not sure we could stand it." Alex moved carefully as she slipped her bra off.

"Alex." Her name was a prayer in his voice. "I'm sorry…I…I would never leave you…I'm sorry I did anything…" He kissed the soft skin between her breasts. "Anything…to scare you…

"I understand," Alex said. She cautiously helped Bobby shed his jeans and boxers. The bandage around his knee was also wonderfully free of any bright red. "My bandage is bigger than yours," she smiled and slipped off her jeans and underwear. She nested in his arms.

"Yea," Bobby said and nuzzled her hair. "But I've got more of them."

She lovingly nuzzled his throat in return. "What I know," she said softly. "Is that together…we can work out anything…we can face any consequences…

"Yes," Bobby said, and, to his amazement, believed it.

END


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